


rose in my hand. thorn in my fist

by Carmenlire



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Episode: s01e12 Malec, Heavy Angst, High Warlock of Brooklyn Magnus Bane, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, POV Alec Lightwood, Unhappy Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-06
Updated: 2020-04-06
Packaged: 2021-03-01 20:54:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23503432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Carmenlire/pseuds/Carmenlire
Summary: Entirely caught up in his thoughts of grief and defeat, the sounds of doors banging open don't register at first. By the time Alec realizes that someone is crashing the ceremony, the entire hall has stilled.Or, there is a world where Alec and Magnus live happily ever after. It's not this one, though.
Relationships: Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood
Comments: 22
Kudos: 47





	rose in my hand. thorn in my fist

He can’t breathe.

That’s all Alec can think as he stares at his soon-to-be wife. It makes something violent in him clutch and it’s a wonder that Lydia doesn’t falter when their eyes meet.

If eyes are windows to the soul than she must be seeing damnation.

With detached pride, Alec notes that his hands aren’t shaking, at least. He might feel like screaming on the inside-- and really, it’s more of a whispered plea, which is both more pathetic and more fitting-- but he’s ever the stoic shadowhunter.

He remembers when he got his first rune and wanted to cry at the pain carving itself into his flesh. He remembers the first time he was injured on a mission and didn’t think he’d make it, remembers the way everything had been both razor sharp and hazy at the edges.

Alec remembers the first time he looked at Maryse and saw not his mother but the Head of the Institute.

As Alec stands in front of a few dozen Clave members and seals his fate, he thinks that this is a swirling mixture of all his most horrific firsts. It’s dread and resignation and a seething, putrid pain, all of it overlaid with Lightwood pride that’s always been more curse than cause for celebration.

He’ll remember the moment he signed his life away-- for his family and to keep up appearances and because, no matter how hard he tries, there will always be a nauseating blend of shame and sadness when he thinks of what he wants, what he truly wants.

Alec will look back on today a hundred times in his life and think that it was the final nail in his coffin and that every subsequent day after his wedding, he is nothing but a dead man walking.

Entirely caught up in his thoughts of grief and defeat, the sounds of doors banging open don't register at first. By the time Alec realizes that someone is crashing the ceremony, the entire hall has stilled.

Alec looks up and the breath steals from his lungs. For there the High Warlock stands, resplendent in a suit the color of berries, looking both dashing and daring and like Alec’s wildest dreams.

It’s a shock and Alec can’t look away. Even from a distance, Magnus Bane is stunning.

He still hasn’t collected one damned thought-- they’ve all vanished in a swirling sea of Magnus’s brazenness and beauty-- when the man in question starts stalking his way down the aisle.

Alec imagines that to anyone else, Magnus looks untouchable, almost snide as he interrupts what is to be an event for nephilim and nephilim alone. However, Alec likes to imagine that he can detect the nervousness and uncertainty in the line of his shoulders, in the way he takes an almost imperceptible breath to brace himself.

A part of Alec scoffs at his romantic nature. Most of him is too delighted, even at such an inappropriate moment, that there seems to lurk a connection between him and the High Warlock.

So focused on Magnus, his sibling’s words are nothing more than white noise in his ears. However, he can clearly hear Maryse demanding to know what Magnus is doing here.

The next thing he knows, his parents have leapt out of their seats and Maryse takes a few threatening steps towards Magnus. “Magnus, leave this wedding now--”

“Maryse, this is between me and your son.”

A ripple of surprise moves over the room, both at a warlock being so bold as to interrupt Maryse Lightwood and at the answer itself.

Alec can’t breathe.

He sees now, crystal clear, that there is a choice. He can abandon Lydia at the alter and join Magnus at the aisle. They can end this farce of a wedding and maybe-- just maybe-- the noose that Alec’s felt tightening around his neck will slip free once and for all.

Or, he supposes in a flash of understanding, he can throw Magnus out of the Institute, bury these feelings and thoughts that seek to betray him, and live the rest of his life as the shadowhunter he was always meant to become.

In the moment it takes to seal fate, Alec debates the cost and makes his decision.

His hand slips from Lydia’s and he turns to face Magnus. Their eye contact makes Alec shudder but he steels himself and strides down the aisle. Maryse tries to stop him but he doesn’t pause, never falters as he merely forces out, “Enough.”

He walks past Maryse and finally comes to a stop just in front of the High Warlock. Alec allows himself a moment-- a heartbeat, maybe even two-- before he repeats, in a gentle, almost apologetic voice, “Enough.”

The hall is silent, no one daring to breathe as the all seem to lean in to catch every detail of what is becoming the undoing of Alec Lightwood.

Magnus doesn’t look away and Alec doesn’t either. If he tries hard enough-- to see, to delude himself, even-- Alec imagines that there’s a touch of smugness in Magnus’s eyes, growing relief and, dare he think it, happiness.

Alec’s made his choice and he’ll see this charade through to the bitter end.

“What are you doing here, Bane?”

He sees the light in Magnus’s eyes die right in front of him and briefly wonders if his own heart isn’t being staked where he stands.

The feeling is impossibly similar.

“Alexander, I--”

“Enough, Magnus.” Alec’s mask threatens to fall for a split second before he blinks and fortifies his walls. This is his moment. This was always meant to be his moment and he hasn’t sacrificed everything to throw it all away now on uncertainty and something as nebulous as feelings.

Emotions cloud judgement and for the first time in weeks, it feels like Alec’s finally clearheaded.

“I don’t know what the hell you’re doing here, High Warlock, but this is my wedding and shadowhunter ceremonies are closed to all downworlders. I’ll ask you to leave.”

It’s almost awe-inspiring to see the change in Magnus’s expression. To see the way emotion is banked and his face becomes infuriatingly neutral, a thin veneer of mocking amusement-- undoubtedly aimed at them both-- taking form. 

Magnus’s voice is just as soft as Alec’s had once been as he replies, "I told you that I wouldn’t ask again.” He says it almost ruefully and shakes his head in a back and forth that looks painful for its slowness, for the way the gesture seems dragged out of him as an afterthought. His lips quirk up and it’s a smile but more than that, it’s a white flag.

“I really should learn to listen to myself.” There’s a pause, as though Magnus is waiting for something-- for Alec to take everything back, for time to rewind itself before this tragedy had the chance to unfold, Alec doesn’t know and refuses to guess-- before Magnus nods once and takes a step back. “Goodbye, Alexander.”

The words pierce just as deep as the first time they’d been uttered and once again, Alec knows that he’s the one pushing Magnus away even as he’s the one left behind. Magnus looks at Alec before his gaze flits to the altar behind him.

Magnus meets his eyes one more time and his words seem to echo throughout the hall, for all that they're whispered. “Congratulations and best wishes, darling.”

With that, Magnus turns on his heel with a half-assed wave thrown out purely to piss off everyone in attendance.

And there Alec is, left standing in the middle of the aisle, watching his last chance walk away. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath and when he opens them again, he is heartbroken.

He’ll be damned if anyone realizes that out, though.

He turns and heads in the opposite direction, back towards his future. He doesn’t address the room-- doesn’t even know where to begin to silence rumours he can already hear echoing in Idris-- merely resumes his position at Lydia’s side. Lydia, who searches his gaze for a long moment before she nods to herself and holds her hand out for Alec to take once more.

He doesn’t look at Jace or Izzy or anyone else. He squeezes Lydia’s hands and nods at the silent brother. The ceremony continues. Alec’s consumed with thoughts of what if, what might have been, but he knows who he is.

He knows what he is.

He is Alec Lightwood and a shadowhunter and that means family and duty comes first, will always come first no matter personal desire. He’s had a lifetime to sink into what his legacy must mean and while he may have contemplated straying from his predetermined path, he knows that way lays lunacy.

Lightwoods break noses and accept the consequences. He’s made his decision and he will deal with the fallout for the rest of his life. But, for all the world watching, he will be an unimpeachable leader and a pillar of his Institute. He will live as he’s always been meant to and will die the same-- with honor and the surety that he’s doing the right thing.

Alec supposes that there’s a world where he gets his happily ever after. However, in this world, he throws it all away bets on a life that-- while a lie-- is still the best thing for all involved.

It’s cold comfort but Alec’s been chilled to the bone for years. It’s another layer of ice that will freeze over him and make him stronger, ever more impenetrable.

There’s a part of his mind whispering that it will only make him more brittle but he ignores that insidious little voice and braces himself for the pain of his wedded union rune.

The pain is still sharp and still digs its claws into his skin even after all these years of practice. Alec lets the pain fester and decides that it pales in comparison to the pain sinking into his chest, behind his ribs, at remembering the way Magnus had looked at him before he’d walked away.

Yeah, Alec thinks as he takes Lydia’s hand at the conclusion of the ceremony and faces everyone else for the first time as a married couple, today has been full of firsts.

No matter that it has also spelled the end of everything.

**Author's Note:**

> Catch me on tumblr or twitter @carmenlire!


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